


I don't know where I'm going, but I'm on my way

by crowned_marshmallow, nanamonella



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Europe, Family Issues, Foreign Language, Friends to Lovers, Gay Keith (Voltron), Getting to Know Each Other, Insecure Lance (Voltron), Keith (Voltron) is Bad at Feelings, Keith (Voltron) is a Mess, Lance (Voltron) is a Mess, Long Lost/Secret Relatives, M/M, Meet the Family, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Roadtrip, Self-Discovery, Self-Indulgent, Slow Burn, Socially Awkward Keith (Voltron), Travel, despacitoburn, eurotrip au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-06
Updated: 2017-12-06
Packaged: 2019-02-11 12:25:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12935235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crowned_marshmallow/pseuds/crowned_marshmallow, https://archiveofourown.org/users/nanamonella/pseuds/nanamonella
Summary: Keith sets out on a journey to discover himself. Lance sets out on a journey without a particular plan, and he discovers Keith. Tune in for some Authentic European Experience, second hand embarrassment and two losers falling in love.





	I don't know where I'm going, but I'm on my way

**Author's Note:**

> We pretend we actually can speak other languages, we dive headfirst into the ocean of self-indulgence, and also nanamo loves Eurovision. Hitchike with us and enjoy the ride~

Lance was hyped. So, so, so very much hyped. After the horribly long flight he finally got there.

He was _in Europe_! Woohoo!

Maybe it was just his excitement getting the better of him, but he could swear the air smelled different (even if he was still at the airport), the clouds looked different. And the view when they were landing? Like a painting! The artistic part of Lance’s soul was thrilled.

Everything about Europe seemed so aesthetically pleasing. Take a look at people. European aesthetic. Granted, Frankfurt Airport was a very busy one, so Lance couldn’t tell for sure, but somehow he thought he could distinguish Europeans from the crowd. Like, look at this gorgeous blonde girl? He would bet all his money she was Scandinavian. And now look at that… Mullet?

Holy shit.

Lance would recognise that mullet everywhere. But no, it was impossible, his eyes must have been tricking him.

“KEITH?!”

Impossible.

But the owner of the mullet in question turned around raising his brow. He regarded Lance with confusion clear in his eyes.

“Do I… Do I know you…?”

That was like a red rag to a bull. With Lance being the bull. Lack of recognition from _Keith_ of _all people_ , was the rag.

“ _What?_ Uh. The name’s Lance? Your main rival from school? Like, you know? Lance and Keith, Keith and Lance, neck in neck?”

Keith had a really bad memory, apparently, because he was blinking owlishly, confusion painted on his face.

“Seriously?! We even have a mutual friend! Pidge? Conspiracy theories and cryptid stuff? Rings a bell? Oh, and I’m certain you know Hunk as well? So that would make two mutual friends?”

Well, he did know Pidge and Hunk, but this guy? Keith squinted his eyes. Ah, now he remembered. He recognised the guy from Pidge and Hunk’s pictures on facebook. And yeah, there was that one dude who claimed that he was his rival and wanted to best him at every single thing possible… But he never paid him attention, he was too engrossed in his own issues at that time, too much to care about stuff like annoying dudes like him. And people in general. To be honest, he probably owed Shiro all social life he ever had. Anyways, yes, there was such guy back then and apparently he was standing right before him at that very moment.

“Yeah… Now I remember…”

Lance shook his head in disbelief. “I can’t believe that I got to meet you in Europe. _You_ , of all people!”

“Yeah, whatever. Have a nice trip, I guess.”

 

Keith turned around and headed to the car rental desk. He wasn’t wasting any more time. After all, he came here for a reason, he was a man on a mission. Nothing and no one would distract him. No one would stand in his way.

No one apart from Keith himself, as it turned out. And his clumsy fingers. Or, to be precise, his inability to type the number of his id correctly, which resulted in Keith yelling at the charming lady behind the desk at a car rental company.

“What do you mean, YOU CAN’T. It’s ONE. LETTER.”

“Apologies, sir” she muttered in a slightly accented English. “If the number on the application doesn’t match the one provided by the client, the reservation is invalid. Company policy.”

“I booked it two weeks in advance! Jesus...” his patience was wearing thin. Usually he wouldn’t be that rude, usually he would, socially awkward as he was, at least try to be decent, but being stranded in a foreign country with no means of transportation drove Keith crazy. And he couldn’t be held accountable for his actions when furious. Not to mention it was interfering with his _plan_. He took a long, deep breath to calm himself a little. “Sorry. I… do you have any other car I can use?”

“Yes, of course. Fill this form,” the lady slid a piece of paper on the counter “and if you pay the deposit, you can leave even immediately.”

“What deposit? Can’t you transfer the one that I’ve already placed?”

“It’s a new transaction. You can apply for a refund, and get the money back within two weeks.” She held two fingers up. Her speech sounded somewhat automatic, as if she had to repeat those phrases over and over again.

“You want me to wait two weeks.” Keith echoed, his voice devoid of all emotions, eyes boring holes into the lady.

“Two weeks is the limit, yes.” she raised an eyebrow in mild annoyance, but managed to remain professional.

At least they were both on the same page, just on a different stages of the fury road. Unfortunately, Keith was on the fast lane. He could almost feel his brow twitching.

He pinched his nose.

“Look. I can’t really spare the time nor the money to mess with this, so can you maybe figure something better out? Is there someone more competent I can talk to?” Keith was mentally patting his back for not yelling, thinking he did well, but in reality his tone came off rather unpleasant. Definitely not the one you’d use to nicely ask the lady at the desk to somehow save your sorry ass.

“Sir, as I said, this is company policy. I am in no position to-”

 

While the lady was trying to calm down the troubled Keith, another equally troubled traveler was trying to figure out what to do with himself. He really should have had his first destination planned out, but he decided to resign himself to the hands of fate, trusting that the universe would get him safely wherever it deemed good.

It sounded much better in Lance’s head.

And that’s how Lance ended up stuck at the airport having no clue what to do next. He wanted to be spontaneous but the sheer amount of endless, limitless possibilities was overwhelming. And he was so distracted, making any choices was much more difficult than normal. For some reason he had a really hard time to focus. What was he… Ah! Where to go? Start his European adventure with Frankfurt? Or take a bus someplace else in Germany? Or hop on a train, hop off, and get somewhere far, far away, to another city or yet another country? Even if he did that, how could he possibly choose from all those countries? Or maybe he should try hitchhiking? But he never tried it before? How do you do that? Especially from the airport?

Lance couldn’t make up his mind for the life of him, and really wished for a sign, a little bit of a hint from the universe. Then he heard someone yelling.

“This is basic human decency! If you wanted to do something, you would!”

Oh, seemed like someone was pissed off. Pissed off American, judging by the accent - a Southerner. After short investigation, which required next to no deductive skills, Lance was sure it was Keith. The very same Keith who forgot his name despite them being rivals in school.

Then it occurred to Lance, that maybe, just maybe, seeing him again there at the airport wasn’t a coincidence. Maybe it was his _sign_.

Okay, universe. Fortune favours the brave anyways!

 

Meanwhile, Keith wasn’t feeling fortunate by any means. He was on the verge of losing it. Dammit, this temper of his. He needed to calm down, calm down fas-

“Oh my god, Keith, I’m so glad I’ve finally found you!” A cheerful voice interrupted that peculiar conversation, teetering between being polite and downright angry. “Hello. I’m sorry, my friend here has been through a lot today.”

Lance flashed an apologetic smile at the lady behind the counter. He was met with a look of pure confusion from both her, and Keith.

“See, we are running short of time here, and it makes us terribly anxious. Sorry for this unpleasant,” Lance glanced at Keith, “situation.”

It looked as if Lance’s attempt to placate her was moderately successful, for she stopped glaring at Keith for a couple of seconds, and turned her attention to the other boy.

“Look, I’m sure that you’re already beyond annoyed with us and I completely understand,” Lance went on “but is there really absolutely nothing you can do in our situation?”

Keith crossed his arms. Lance had no way of knowing what the situation was; at least not just from listening to the little (one-sided) shouting match he had just witnessed. Why was he butting in? What was he trying to do, and would? that fuck up Keith’s day even more?

“As I explained to your… friend, over here, we need to follow a strict procedure.”

“I see.” Lance rubbed his chin.

“No, you don’t. I made one tiny mistake in typing a string of numbers and suddenly it’s impossible to get a car! In a car rental place!” Keith was still fuming. Lance’s presence wasn’t helping either. Why was the guy even here? Why was he butting in?

“Ah, numbers! So easy to confuse! You know,” Lance wrapped his arm around Keith’s shoulders in a fake display of familiarity, “you should have showed me, I have a keen eye for details.” Suddenly he turned to the lady. “And for beauty.”

Keith watched in disbelief how Lance winked at the woman with a broad smile. He was flirting. What the fuck. And to his surprise the lady, after a moment of being stunned by this sudden turn of events, giggled and blushed slightly. _Unfuckinbelievable_.

He groaned, taking Lance’s attention back to him.

“If you could give us a minute,” the other boy flashed the woman a smile worthy of a  
toothpaste commercials and promptly turned Keith and himself around, arm still wrapped around Keith’s arms.

“Keith. Buddy. My friend. Why don’t you sit over there and let me handle this.” Lance said quietly, only for Keith to hear, a smile still plastered on his face.

"What's your game, Lance? What do you want from me?"

“I get you a car, you get me a lift.”

“A lift?”

“Yup. A lift.”

“Like you can do anything to help me.”

Because there was no way he could, right?

“Yes, I can.”

“No, you can’t.”

“Wanna bet?”

“Sure. There’s literally nothing I can lose, and if I can beat you...”

“Oh, Keith, you’re gonna be amazed what I can do.” Lance smiled slyly. Sly didn’t look good on him, Keith decided. It looked like trouble.

“Can’t wait,” he drawled out in the end.

“So it’s a deal.”

“Deal. I’ll give you a lift if you can get me a car. If.”

“Oh, watch and learn, Mullet, watch and learn.”

Keith did watch it, although not without feigning disinterest. Resting his back against the wall, arms crossed, he watched Lance from a safe distance. Truly, it was a spectacle; the boy was leaning forward, gesticulating, tilting his head. His behaviour felt more like a performance rather than a casual conversation. To Keith’s surprise, the woman’s expression brightened with each word falling from Lance’s lips, her eyes easily drawn to him, her posture relaxing.

 

Huh.

 

So Lance was an extremely skilled snake-charmer.

After a while, she turned her attention to a computer, and started typing frantically. Finally, she printed out a couple of pages and handed them to Lance. This was Lance’s cue to turn to Keith (with a shit-eating grin) and beckon him to come over.

“You need to sign this!”

What the actual fuck? Keith scanned the pages suspiciously, looking for any sign of dark magic that might have been there. The lady said there was nothing he could do, and yet, Lance managed…

“How is that-”

“Less questions, more trust.”

He shook his head lightly, but signed the papers in the end. Lance took them from him triumphally and handed over to the lady. So, he had a car.

“Well, okay, I guess you got lucky, congratulations. Where am I taking you?” Keith said a bit grumpily. He was relieved he got a car, but owing it to Lance and having to deliver him wherever the guy wanted wasn’t something he liked. Especially when memories of Lance from school started to resurface gradually, and were by no means fond nor flattering. Keith was about to face the most annoying, obnoxious guy with an inflated ego.

“Wherever you are going, which is…?” Lance looked at Keith expectantly.

“What? What do you mean?”

“I have no particular destination in mind, just take me wherever. So, where you’re going?”

“You’re nuts,” said Keith. He knew he was stating the obvious but couldn’t help himself. Who in the right mind would travel not only to another city or a country, but to another continent and just go wherever the fate will take him?

“Yeah, yeah, I am very much loco, heard it before. Now, where we’re going?”

Keith sighed. “Amsterdam.”

“Whoa, sweet!”

Did that Lance guy just jumped throwing his hands in the air? Yes, he fucking did.

Keith hoped that whatever higher powers heard him they were going to help him endure his new companion.

 

***

 

And this is how Keith ended up with a Lance on a shotgun seat. Breathing Keith’s air. Asking to play his playlist. His bag and a guitar thrown on the backseat. His long ass legs taking up so much space.

“But… how?” Keith was still in a state of shock and, he had to admit it to himself, something akin to admiration. He was trying to uncover the mystery of Lance’s charm, of him getting them a car despite the obstacles. With no luck so far.

“Trade secret, Keith. My lips are sealed.”

It was a blatant lie, for Lance couldn’t shut his mouth for the life of him. Partially, it could be blamed on his excitement, but it mostly it was his natural desire to fill the silence. Consequently, Keith was forced to suffer through a long-ish tale about Lance’s cousin John or James and his failed first date, troubles with luggage collection, weather, memes, and youtube videos, and also an entire semester of university gossips that was shared with him. It didn’t help that the boy seemed somewhat unfocused, and was jumping from one subject to another (Keith probably shouldn’t really blame him, as he was feeling slightly disoriented himself after the flight, but he did, just out of principle). If Lance noticed that Keith was, to put it mildly, disinterested, he didn’t let it show.

Keith was irritated but too tired to even try to express it in any way. Maybe that was this infamous jet lag. But he couldn’t let himself rest, he needed to get to Amsterdam, needed to press on. The faster, the better. What he could do, though, was taking little breather and fueling himself with caffeine.

“I need a coffee break.” was the only thing that Keith had said in an hour of their ride. “Gonna pull over at the gas station. You want something?”

“Gonna go with you. My legs could use some stretching.” Apparently, having long limbs was no fun in tight spaces with little leg room. Not that Keith would pity his poor legs, thought Lance, and opened the door.

Not too happy with the company, but starved for some caffeine, Keith got out of the car. Once they reach Amsterdam, he will have paid his debt, and judging from the map they were almost halfway there. Keith had pulled through much worse things than an oversized chatterbox on his passenger seat. Sudden word caught in his ear turned his attention.

“Black.”

“Huh?” Keith wasn’t focused enough to understand the word thrown at him out of context.

“You’re ordering coffee. I like my coffee black.”

“Great. I’m sure you’re big enough to get your own coffee.”

“I’m big enough _and_ kind enough to order for us both.” Lance said without missing a beat. “What’s your preference?”

“Uh…” Truth to be told, Keith loved those fancy, overpriced coffees they would serve at Starbucks. But he wasn’t ready to admit that yet. “Just… one sugar, one milk.”

“On it.”

Lance smiled and sauntered to the counter, where he promptly started to flirt with the cashier. Ha. Figures. So he wasn’t entirely selfless in getting that coffee for both of them, was he.

In a way, Keith wished he could be more like Lance; effortlessly striking up conversations with strangers, charming retail workers into helping him out. Having at least an ounce of such social skills would come in handy when confronting anyone, not to mention those whom Keith was going to meet.

A long-lost family, to be more precise. It wasn’t as romantic as it sounded, quite the opposite - it was more of an act born out of frustration than anything else; Keith was sick and tired of not knowing, of having this huge gap torn out of his family tree. When his mother had left, he’d been only a few years old, and his recollections of her were at best foggy. Still, she would come to his mind every now and then, making him wonder who she really was. What she meant to him. Why she left. Why she left him.

He’d been battling such thoughts for years, and came to a conclusion that was the reason he built high walls around him, hardly ever letting anyone in. Not that he was entirely lonely. True, a lone wolf he was, but he had a few friends. Good friends. So good, sometimes he wouldn’t believe they befriended him. Him, with his terribly short temper, and a championship in being socially awkward, missing signals and having difficulties with dealing with strangers without insulting them somehow, being so straightforward it was bordering on crude and honest to the bone, even if sugarcoating would probably make his life easier.. But there they were, Shiro, Hunk and Pidge. Being his friends and supporting him when he decided it was high time he resolved his family-related issues. Mommy issues? Whatever. Issues. His friends were there for him and supported him.

Especially Shiro, whom he knew the longest, and who was like an older brother to him. In fact, the trip was his idea. Well, no, not really, at least not entirely. All he did was planting the idea in Keith’s head, that maybe connecting in a way with his roots could do Keith some good.

Keith thought it was damn brilliant, and just what he needed, so he carried out his plan and took the idea further than Shiro had ever imagined.

By far, Keith’s trip to Europe was the most carefully planned endeavour of his. A ticket booked in advance, car rental companies checked, printouts of rail tracks and hotel numbers; his desk littered in notes and scraps. For once in his life, he couldn’t rely on his impulsiveness. It was unsettling. Still, the fate played a trick on him and decided to introduce an unpredictable variable anyway. The unpredictable variable was currently finger-gunning the giggling cashier with an enormously stupid smile on his face.

 

God.

What a loser.

 

Luckily, the loser offered to chip in for the gas, and also got Keith a cup of coffee, so Keith kept his opinion about Lance to himself. For the time being.

 

***

 

“I’m hungry.”

Keith let out a tired sigh.

“We’ve been on a station half an hour ago. Couldn’t have gotten something then?” He did little to hide the annoyance in his voice.

“I haven’t been hungry back then! And now I’m suddenly super hungry!”

Although getting peckish himself, Keith didn’t want to drag this journey out even more by adding additional stop.

“Come on, man, it’s not gonna take long! Plus, you’d have a chance to try German cuisine!”

“Yeah? And what is German cuisine, exactly?”

“I mean… They have all those... Uh… Beer? And sausages?” Lance managed to get through his brain fog. He was fine with eating almost anything anyway, as long as it was warm and cheap.

“Sounds amazing. But thanks, no thanks.”

Lance rolled his eyes. He was in the middle of coming up with an amazing counter-argument, when Keith’s stomach rumbled lowly. Ha!

“See! You’re hungry too!” Lance didn’t bother hiding his laughter.

“Am not!” Keith tightened the grip on the steering wheel, a blush reaching his cheek.

“You totally are, man! Come on, a short break. We’ll get something to eat, you’ll have the energy to drive. In fact, we may even get to Amsterdam faster, because you’ll be less distracted by hunger and all!”

Lance wiggled his eyebrows.

Keith was pointedly not looking at him.

“Fffiinee… Keep your eyes open for a bar or something.”

And Lance did, and he did so in silence, to Keith’s surprise. Not that he was going to complain, it was pretty nice. They were driving for a while, Keith looking ahead and Lance plastered to the window, like a hawk searching for a pray. Hunger took over his post-flight lack of focus.

“Oh! Keith! There’s a sign!”

Keith squinted. There was a sign indeed. Damn, Lance had a very good eyesight to notice it from such distance. They needed to take next exit and, according to the sign, it wouldn’t take long.

“Okay, we’re going there. Just make it quick.”

“Aye, aye, Captain Grumpy Mullet!”

“I swear I’m gonna throw you out from a car. While driving.”

Lance only laughed at that.

 

They reached the exit eventually, so Keith took it and followed the next signs to the bar. And there it was. He was pleasantly surprised that, aside from two coach buses, there weren’t any more cars. While coach buses weren’t the most optimistic sight, no other vehicles meant less waiting for the food, right?

Still, the place was relatively crowded. The low hum of a foreign speech combined with the voice of an overly excited sports announcer generated a fair amount of noise. The place was packed with soccer fans. Very emotionally invested football fans, high on the adrenaline of the game and drunk on unnervingly large amounts of beer (and who knows if only beer?). Their gaze was fixed on the small tv set seated precariously on the top of a wooden cabinet. It was hard to tell what looked more dangerous, the tv or the football fans. Keith wished to get out of there as soon as possible.

Lance, on the other hand, was already standing by the counter, his head tilted up to read at the hand-written menu.

“I can’t understand a thing!” he said surprisingly cheerfully.

“Well, that’s usually the case when something’s written in a language you don’t know.”

“Oh my god, you're the worst kind of a tourist, Mullet. Enjoy the European linguistic diversity!”

“Don't call me that, I have a name, you know? And just order something already.”

“Ouch, certain someone's extra grumpy when hungry,” muttered Lance looking at the menu, imploring it to reveal its secrets to him. Then he turned his gaze to the man at the bar. “Excuse me?”

The man had enough patience to bear with the foreign speech. As it turned out, showing the whole menu with gestures was pretty difficult, so he turned to pointing to the plates of those who have already ordered. For Keith, it was painfully awkward. For Lance, it was a splendid show of goodwill and hospitality. Finally, they managed to order some kind of sausages, and they sat by the counter.

“Looks suspicious.” Keith eyed his plate warily.

“But smells good enough.” Lance shrugged and dug in. “Taffes goof enuff too!”

Keith waited for a couple of seconds to see if Lance wouldn’t drop dead, and if it was safe for Keith to eat. Apparently, it was.

A warm meal dissolved some of the tension between the boys, and made the conversation easier. Keith was still reluctant to share the details of his trip or the motivation behind it, but after Lance’s insistent questions, he finally said evasively, “I know someone who lives there. ”

“Ah, _someone_!” Lance wiggled his eyebrows.

“N-not like that, Jesus.”

“Fair enough, I’m not gonna pry.” Which was Lance’s for, _I certainly will pry, but I’m taking a break now_.

Keith rolled his eyes, but was silently grateful that Lance let it go. However, when he looked up at Lance, he saw that the boys gaze was fixed on something on the distance. A someone, to be more exact. Keith’s eyes followed Lance’s stare.

Whoever said that German women were ugly, clearly had not seen Her. Even being unapologetically, hopelessly gay, Keith had to admit that there was something truly captivating about her. A long-legged blonde beauty with that kind of smouldering gaze that would stop traffic on a busy Monday morning was leaning on a barstool opposite to Lance (but apparently not far enough not to catch his attention).

“Pardon me.” He muttered to Keith, already standing up to approach her.

Straight men, Keith thought to himself. _Know one, you know them all_.

In the meantime, Lance made his way to the charming lady. Full of hope, he tried chatting her up in English. Having been met with a look of confusion, he tried again. Slowly.

“Hello. My name is Lance. What is yours?”

“Ah. I understand English. Just… don’t speak. Much.” she was a little flustered, but quickly regained her composure. “Elsa. My name is Elsa.”

Lance was about to discover that flirting with foreigners wasn’t actually as hard as he initially thought, and Elsa’s confidence in her English grew with each sentence she spoke. Possibly, some potential misunderstanding of Lance’s words on her part worked to his benefit.

If he was distracted and unfocused since he landed on the European land, things got much worse at that very moment. The thing was, once Lance was in the Loverboy mode, he didn’t mind his surroundings much. Consequently, he was completely blind to the murderous glares that he was an object of. And they weren’t coming from Keith, for once.

As it turned out, Lance was not the only one who had been charmed by Elsa’s looks. One of the charmed fellows even dignified himself with spitting a warning at Lance, but alas, his knowledge of German insults wasn’t advanced enough to understand it.

Lance wasn’t dumb, he knew the man wasn’t happy about something, but he was way too captivated with Elsa to realise that his advances were the heart of the problem. He put his most friendly smile and tried using his most pleasant voice.

“Hello. I’m sorry but I don’t understand.” Then he figured out that since he knows yet another language spoken in Europe, hell, why not make use of it? _“Lo siento, no entiendo._ ” Most European languages came from the same language family, so they should be similar, right?

One could say, Lance somewhat succeeded. The man, as well as his fellow football fans, seemed to understand that he spoke Spanish.

“Spanier,” he hissed raising to his feet, rest of the men following his lead. Lance gulped.

The poor boy had no idea that particular German team those gentlemen loved dearly was having their asses handed over to them by another team just now. The fans were not taking it lightly. Oh, and the other team happened to be Spanish. And being extremely passionate about football, they took it upon them to show Lance their superiority, at least on a physical plane, if not in the football world. A huge man got up from a tiny stool, his bulky posture towering over Lance. The boy could no longer ignore it.

“I-is she your girlfriend?” He looked nervously at Elsa. “Look, man, I mean no harm…”

Whatever was said in response sounded offensive enough for Lance to understand it perfectly. He kept backing off until his back hit the wall.

“Come on, dude! What’s your deal, I didn’t do anything!” he glanced sideways looking for help. The lady who (presumably) was the cause of this whole situation was nowhere to be found.

 

Or was there?

 

Apparently, Lance’ s helplessness was enough for Keith’s protective instincts to kick in. Lance couldn’t speak for the Mullet boy, but from Lance’s perspective, it was all a blur. A flash of something silver, lots of angry words thrown in at least two languages, an elbow jabbed into his side. Were all fights so noisy and messy? Everything felt dizzy, tipsy-drunk and uncoordinated, and the next thing Lance knew, was that the German was backing off from Keith with fear in his eyes. Lance glanced at the other boy and his eyes went wide. No. No. He must have been be dreaming.

A knife. Keith was holding an actual knife, and judging from the look on his face, he wouldn’t have hesitated before using it.

Two against one was an unfair fight, and seeing that the odds weren’t in his favour, the football fan called for help. The help came in the form of two more men, equally big, angry and beer-drunk. Not to mention that the reinforcements that were on standby, ready to join any minute.

As much as Lance was glad Keith decided to help him, he wasn't sure he fancied much the knife being brought into the fight. It opened a lot of new (potentially deadly) possibilities. They needed to get away from there, like asap. And because of that Lance did the only thing that came to his mind.

“OH,” he shouted pointing somewhere behind the crowd. “LOOK, BANANAS!”

Confused, the football fans turned their heads to look at the direction Lance pointed. Keith seized the opportunity - he grabbed Lance's hand and run, run for his life. Fortunately, so did Lance. They got in the car in a record time that possibly could put Usain Bolt to shame.

“¡Vamos, vamos, vamos! ¡Rápido!” Frantic Spanish words encouraged Keith..

Keith didn't really need that. Lance hadn't even sat properly, nor had closed the door, when he started the car and drove off.

He drove as fast as he could for a while,Spanish babbling in the background, but he didn’t let himself relax until they got to the highway. Then, he dared to look at Lance who apparently decided to look at Keith back. Lance looked somewhat pale and sweaty. Like he’d seen the ghost, maybe. And suddenly he spoke in a langue Keith could actually understand.

“Jesus fucking Christ! Keith! A knife?! You're carrying a knife on you?! You're crazy! ¡Estás loco!”

Keith knew no Spanish but was well aware what “loco” meant.

“Me?! Me?! Don't you loco me Lance! Look at yourself! The whole brawl is _your fault_ because _someone_ couldn't stop himself from flirting! You’ve got no self-preservation instinct! And who the hell yells about bananas in the middle of the fight?! You're nuts!”

“I don’t know, it was the first thing that came to my mind! Plus, I don’t think they understood what I said at all.”

There was a brief moment of silence between them. The whole situation felt surreal. Just a couple of hours spent in Europe and they already ended up in a barfight. They looked at each other for a second before erupting into laughter. Keith turned to look at the road ahead, laughing and shaking his head.

Lance giggled.

“Oh, god. You're crazy, I’m nuts. What a match!”

They laughed again and Keith glanced at Lance who had been already looking at him (again), giving him a little smile; a small and genuine one, so different from his regular shit-eating grins.

“We make a good team.”

“Yeah,” agreed Keith smiling back. “Yeah. We do.”

Lance giggled again.

“Hey, wanna hear something reeealy crazy?”

“Yeah?”

“That dude who wanted to beat me up. You know? He was scary as fuck, but daaamn, he was so hot.”

“THE FUCK?!” Keith couldn’t believe his ears.

“Come on, have you seen his arms? Could easily break me in two! Maybe I should have flirted with him instead of Elsa. Hmmm, no, probably he’d beat me up anyways,” mused Lance as Keith was digesting the fact that he assumed Lance’s orientation wrong and, apparently, Lance wasn't as straight as he seemed to be.

Keith shook his head focusing on the road ahead, a stray smile still ghosting on his lips. He was aware of Lance’s wiggling in his seat, doing some weird kind of gymnastics, but paid it no mind. Suddenly he heard a sound of a camera shutter. He looked at Lance, frozen in a quite uncomfortable position for someone with such long legs, holding his phone and proudly admiring photo he took.

“Did you… Just take a selfie?” Keith had no idea why on Earth he would take one. He was jet lagged, slightly dishevelled after their adventure, and there was no spectacular scenery around. Keith had never been an expert on selfies, but he didn’t see the moment as selfie-worthy.

“Yup! Gotta update the world on my adventures. And I was trying to get the best angle, duh! Besides, I don't look as bad as I thought. Guess this brawl got my blood circulate better, you know, and got more oxygen flowing. But it's a little unfair, you photograph better without even trying.”

“You took a picture of me?”

“Well, technically of both of us? Since we're travelling together now? Oh, I can post it, can't I? Do you have an instagram? I'll tag you.”

Keith shook his head.

“You’re weird one, Lance. But yeah, whatever. Let your fans know that somehow you're in Europe and still alive. And no, I don't have one.”

“And you call me weird, Mullet boy…”

 

Somehow, being in danger made the mood between them much lighter, more relaxed. Thanks to their bonding moment Lance didn’t seem to be as annoying as he had been before. In fact, even if Keith was spacing out every now and then, Lance's stories and humming to his horrid playlist became a welcome distraction to him. For a moment, he forgot to be nervous about the main reason for his trip.

Until the stress caught up with him.

He wasn’t exactly sure how far was it to Amsterdam, not being used to kilometers, but seeing the numbers getting smaller and smaller with every passed sign was making him anxious. Keith became irritable, muttering curses or yelling at other drivers making (according to his humble opinion) stupid decisions. And it took an awful lot of his willpower to control his foot on the gas pedal.

Lance who was giving him weird looks,and tried to placate him every now and then, also fell victim to his road rage.

After a particularly passionate string of curses accompanied by honking and yelling, Lance couldn’t take it anymore. Honestly, he was getting a little bit concerned about his own safety.

“Jeez, Keith, calm down! Calm down, okay? What the fuck is wrong with you? Can you, please chill for one second? Because you’re honestly freaking me out right now. I haven’t come to Europe just to die here, you know?”

“ _I. Am. Calm_.” Keith was struggling to regain his composure, trying to breathe deeply to calm himself down, but was too much on edge.

“Uh-uh, whatever you say, buddy,” Lance wasn't convinced. “But seriously, you okay? ‘Cause the closer we get to Amsterdam, the more… Oooh!”

Suddenly it dawned on him. Of course! Everything became crystal clear.

“I get it now! You’re getting nervous because you’re going to see the certain _someone_ soon, riiight?” His tone was too teasing for Keith temper to bear. “Wanna tell me about it? Could give you some tips, you know?”

Another sign. Even less kilometers to his destination. Even more teasing from Lance.

Finally Keith reached his boiling point. He turned sharply to the other boy, throwing his hands up in frustration.

“NOT YOUR FUCKING BUSINESS, GIVE ME A BREAK!” He yelled, forgetting the wheel, forgetting that he was driving.

“JESUS, KEITH, EYES ON THE ROAD! AND HANDS ON THE WHEEL, FUCK!”

Keith grabbed the wheel and fixed his eyes on the road ahead, making sure they were on the right lane. This was bad, this was very bad. He tried focusing on the trip, step by step. Packing, taking a flight, getting a car, driving from point A to point B, but he carefully avoided thinking about his final destination. He wanted it as much as it was freaking him out. And bottled up emotions were taking a toll on him.

“I… I’m so… I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. I guess I’ve a bit of a temper so... But I’m working on it, I’m working on it.” He wasn’t really sure if it was something he wanted to tell Lance or something he needed to remind himself.

Keith expected some kind of a comeback from the other boy, but to his surprise all he got was silence. He risked a glance at Lance, and was met with a pair of eyes watching him with thoughtfulness and… was it concern?

“Hey, man… Hey,” Lance started softly, “look, I have no idea what’s going on, but how about we pull over for a second so you can cool off? And I know we don't really know each other that well, and you’re not exactly a talkative person, but, you know, if you’d like to get something off your chest, I’m here? I mean, you don’t have to, it’s just an idea. But, seriously, I think you should take a breather.”

Keith nodded. Pulling over seemed like a good and very reasonable idea. Just a second to collect himself.

The silence fell between them again as Keith took first chance he got to pull over. He stopped the car and gave a long, slow exhale. He nearly jumped feeling Lance's hand touch his arm after a while. Unexpected casual touches weren't something Keith was used to.

“Well… Better now?” The other boy inquired carefully.

“I- Yeah, I guess…”

“Wanna talk about it…?”

Keith glanced at the other boy. Lance expression was open, genuine, there was no teasing nor mockery hiding in his features. He even looked like someone trustworthy. Keith bit his lip.

If there was something that always felt beyond his reach, it was definitely expressing emotions and, even more so, talking about them. Keith felt vulnerable then, and hated this feeling with passion; it made him wanna hide even deeper inside his shell, put yet another brick to the wall he had built over the years.

But,trying to be reasonable about the whole ordeal, he knew he’d been avoiding the heart of the issue for far too long and it wasn’t leading him anywhere. And if he had someone to listen, maybe it would be just wise?

Lance was practically a stranger, true. But sometimes it’s easier to confide in stranger than someone you actually know. Not to mention that once they get to Amsterdam, they’re parting their ways. Probably never gonna see the guy ever again.

Keith decided to give it a try.

“I…” The words died in his throat. What the fuck was he supposed to say? Where to begin?

Lance gave him a reassuring smile, squeezing his shoulder lightly. “Take your time.”

What to say? How do you start a story like that? He took a few deep breaths, Lance's hand still on his shoulder like a kind of anchor, and figured out that starting with a person he intended to meet in Amsterdam was probably most reasonable.

“I-I,” Keith cleared his throat. “I’m going to Amsterdam to meet my uncle.”

Lance was practically beaming as he heard this. He looked excited and Keith had no idea why.

“Oh! A family reunion then! Awesome! Oh, wait, he's making you nervous and aggressive and all, so I guess he's not the nice kind of uncle? You don’t like him much and it's some family duty, this visit?” Lance was slowly filling the gaps in the story, waiting for Keith to guide him through it.

“Um. Well. I… I wouldn't know. I actually never met him.”

“Oh.” That seemed to surprise Lance. He pondered over it for a bit, but it didn’t take him long to be back on track. “Well, okay then. You don't know the guy, you don't know what to expect of him and it's only natural you're nervous. I would be freaking out too. Maybe more in an excited, less aggressive way, but freaking out nonetheless.”

“Yeah… I guess…” Keith had no idea what to do nor what to say. The silence fell upon them again. He bit his lip as Lance was watching him thoughtfully.

“Keith, not gonna lie, I’m terribly curious what's the story behind this family meeting. What made you go to another continent to meet this guy? I mean, you don't have to tell me, it's not my business really, but…”

Keith bit his lip harder. Should he tell more? Maybe he should. Rip off the bandaid off the neglected and bottled up feelings, let them spill, get over it and focus on the meeting that was ahead of him. One smooth movement and it's done, no more pain. Well, okay. Maybe not entirely. Considering Lance wasn't going to be more than a part of a sort of funny, sort of scary memory of his trip to Amsterdam and an almost-a-bar fight, Keith was letting himself be more open than usual, but it didn't mean that he was going to bare his heart just like that.

“He’s my mother’s brother.”

“Okayyy… So? What's the deal? There's a rift between them and you're trying to bring the family together or something?”

“I… I never knew my mother… But he did… So…”

Oh, no. No. No. No. No. That was a terrible idea.

Keith suddenly felt his chest getting tight, airstream obstructed. He just hoped his eyes wouldn't betray him and tear up. Oh, fuck. There they were coming. Tears. He shut his eyes tight, bit his lip. How come the thoughts of his mother’s absence still made him cry after all those years? How could one long for someone who was never present? Fuck, fuck, fuckfuckfuck… Abort mission, abort mission… Okay, he got it. Deep breath. First, second, third… Keith tried rubbing his thumb against his index finger, sometimes it would help. Sometimes. But not now. FUCK.

For a moment he forgot his bottled feelings aren’t a steady stream of still water that would drip slowly and under control. They were fucking champagne, prone to sudden outbursts. And as it started buzzing Keith felt his lungs filling with emotions he wasn’t ready to feel now. He didn't want anyone to see him like this, he needed to leave.

“I’m outta here! Get me out of here!” Keith yelled, fighting with seatbelt. He won. “I’M OUT OF HERE!”

Slightly taken aback, Lance watched Keith as he bolted out of the car, slamming the door behind him. Lance could tell it was something that caused the other boy lots of pain, not knowing his mother. He couldn’t really relate, his mama was always there for him, whether in flesh or on the other side of the phone. He could only imagine how devastating life without her would be. Lance felt sorry for Keith, wanted to comfort him somehow, but didn't know how.

First thing he wanted to do, instinctively, was to go after him and hug the boy, give him a shoulder to cry on. If it was Hunk, a hug would be most obvious answer. Hell, even with Pidge a hug of comfort would be the right thing to do. But how do you comfort sad temperamental Keiths with knives? He watched the boy pacing nervously far outside the car, obviously distressed, and decided to try anyway. Maybe his instincts wouldn't fail him. And if getting punched was what stars had for him that day, so be it. Better Keith that the man from the bar, however hot.

 

Sighing deeply, Lance got out of the car. Keith didn’t go far; he stood by the side of the road, arms wrapped around himself. Lance approached him as he would approach a wild animal; he valued his life too much to risk it, and caution was more than expected after what he had seen in the bar. Intuitively, Lance knew that he had to say something, but it was hard for him to find the words. A foreign feeling, at least for him as they always found their way to his lips easily. Luckily, Keith solved that problem for him by speaking first.

“You just don’t know when to quit, do you?”

Despite the harsh words, his voice lacked spite, and his defensive posture betrayed that he had no will to fight. He looked worn out. And, maybe Lance just imagined it, not entirely like someone who wanted to be left alone.

“Do you want me to quit?” Lance asked, but his question was left unanswered.

The two boys stood in silence for a while with only a hum of cars speeding down the road behind them interrupting it.

“I hate feeling like that. I just hate it.” Keith spat, eyes pointedly not looking at Lance. He kicked the grass growing on the side of the road.

“Like what?”

Lance had his suspicions of what Keith had in mind, but he’d rather let the other boy use his own words than jump to assumptions. Especially with someone he barely knew, someone so different from any of Lance’s friends.

“Like my head is going to explode. Like I’m running in circles. And I gotta do something, but I don’t know what. It sucks feeling so…”

“Helpless?”

“Yeah. I guess.”

With a surge of courage, Lance inched closer to Keith. Their shoulders were almost touching. Maybe he expected Keith to lean closer, to let himself be pulled in a comforting hug or at least a pat on the back, but Keith did no such thing. Again, foreign. But Lance was always the one to take action; he needed to do something. So he patted the very top of Keith's head with a flat hand, exactly twice, punctuating it with the words:

“There, there.”

“What the fuck, Lance?” Keith was dumbfounded.

“I don't really speak Keith-ish and I’m not really sure how to comfort you. Normally I just hug people, but you don't struck me as a touchy-feely guy and you have a knife on you, so I don't know buddy,” Lance realised he was rambling, so he took a breath to refocus. “But, most importantly and back to the matter - you’re doing something. You went all the way here to see your uncle, to learn the truth. So you’re not helpless, Keith.”

Keith seemed to be thinking over Lance’s words, lower lip worried between his teeth.

“Huh. Maybe you’re right. Thanks, buddy.”

“You’re welcome.” Lance risked patting other boy’s back anyway. “So… What's the plan…? When are you guys going to meet? Today? Tomorrow? At his place? Somewhere else?”

“I… I don't know.” Somehow Keith never went that far in his planning. So focused on getting there, Keith hadn't really thought about this final step and what to say then. So very much like him, huh? Dive in deep, head first, no matter the consequences.

“You… Don't know…?” Lance raised his eyebrow.

“I… I got a call to make.” Keith blurted out.

Lance nodded in acknowledgement and was about to go back to the car, but he was stopped by Keith’s hand grabbing his elbow. “It won’t take long” was as close to “stay” as Keith’s pride would let him express it. Suddenly all courage left him, the prospect of talking to the stranger that was his uncle and the need of making a good first impression absolutely dreadful. If only he was more like Lance, just for a while. Maybe his social skills and smooth talking would rub off on Keith, given the proximity forced by the car’s size.

Keith’s fingers were shaking when dialing the number, he looked nothing like the boy who was ready to take on the men twice his size in a bar.

“W-wait, if you don’t mind me here, maybe let’s get in the car, okay? It's quiet there.” Lance was tugging at his hoodie. “Come on, man.”

Surprisingly enough, Keith shuffled back to the car with no word of complaint.

“I really should have called him earlier.” He took a deep breath.

“Wait, your uncle doesn't know you're coming?”

“Um, no. Not really.” Keith's head was hanging low.

Under any other circumstances, Lance probably would have made fun of him, but seeing how distressed the other boy was, he gave Keith a little smile and patted his shoulder for encouragement.

“Okay. So do it now. Make your call.”

Lance watched Keih take a deep breath and trying again, pressing the green symbol, actually calling his uncle.

Keith stilled himself.

“Met Thace.” A voice could be heard from the other side of the call.

Keith took another deep breath. And absolutely no words came after. Panicked, he looked at Lance.

“Say hello!” Lance mouthed.

Keith just stared at him like a deer in the headlights.

“Met wie spreek ik?” the man’s voice sounded partially concerned, partially irritated.

Lance dealt a well aimed kick at Keith’s shin, which made him (at least) make a sound. And promptly try to cover it with, “h-hello?”

“Oh, excuse me,” the man, Thace, quickly switched to English. “I must have startled you with that Dutch. But the question still stands, who am I talking to?”

“I… You don’t know me.”

Lance facepalmed.

“I’m family!”

Lance looked at Keith through his fingers. Now both of the boys were equally horrified. Lance moved closer and pressed his ear to the other side of Keith's phone, hoping to hear something the mysterious uncle would say. He wasn’t invading privacy. It was damage control, okay?

“If that’s a prank call, I must say it’s very original” Thace chuckled. “But what do you really want, kid?”

Lance took his phone out and quickly typed: “INTRODUCE YOURSELF!!!” before nearly shoving the device in Keith's face.

“Um… My name is Keith… I came here from the States… What else do I say? I’m Keith. I said that already,” he rolled his eyes at himself and glanced at Lance, looking for help.

“Look, kid…” he heard the man sighing heavily.

He was slightly panicking, until his companion half-mouthed, half-whispered another tip: “Tell him who you are to him! Who he is to you, you know, relationship!”

“Um, er, I’m your sister's son? Gaet’s son? Your nephew?” He interrupted quickly whatever Thace meant to say. “And, um, I guess it makes you my uncle?” Keith blurted out. Why was he so bad at it?

It was so terribly awkward that Lance was shy of dying from the second hand embarrassment, but on the other hand - could he really judge? He had no idea how he would behave if he was calling his long lost uncle for the first time in his entire life. So he gave Keith a thumb up instead.

Suddenly, the boys heard something shattering on the other side of the phone, followed by a muffled foreign word, most likely a curse. They exchanged silent looks: Keith asking unspoken questions, Lance feeling confused so far. Not to leave Keith anxious, he typed:

“Ask the dude if he's okay?”

Keith followed the advice.

“Um, hello? Is everything okay?” Keith tried, voice very uncertain. He really, really tried.

“I.. Well, it’s just a bit unexpected.”

Well, Keith was known to be “a bit unexpected” most of his life, so there wasn’t anything particularly surprising (or unexpected) to him.

“I know, I know. I’m… I’m sorry? I was just wondering… Would you mind to… to meet? Me?”

“O-of course. I’m surprised, yes, but you’re family, of course I’d love to-... Yes! When?”

“Today.” Mouthed Lance.

“Today.” Mimicked him Keith.

“Today?” Asked Thace, surprise clear in his voice.

Keith picked at his nails, gaze fixed on his lap. Before he left, he felt like he had everything planned, the details of his trip written in confirmation e-mails, strings of numbers and maps, but once he faced the reality… What if Thace never wanted to see him? What if he had an extremely busy schedule, or was out of town at the moment? There were so many ‘what-if’s’ that Keith didn’t even consider before.

Lance took his hand, furrowing his brows at the nail picking. _Dios_ , this Keith guy.

“You’re already in Amsterdam?” Thace’s voice brought them back to the reality.

“Um, no, not yet,” clarified Keith. “But I’m in the Netherlands?”

Lance felt like facepalming not only himself, but also a few of his possible past lives if he had any. He shoved, not so subtly, his elbow in Keith’s ribs.

“Germany!” he supplied in a whisper.

“Germany, I mean I’m in Germany! I mean, I’m driving. From Frankfurt. Yeah.”

After a few thumbs up and down, whispers, elbow jabs, and eye rolls from Lance who apparently knew how to make sense of kilometers (how did he know that?!) as well as some helpful questions from Thace, they were able to estimate when he'll get to the Amsterdam. Too soon for his liking. Why was Europe so small?

“We will just- I mean,I will just check in in a hostel and we can meet right away.” Keith said.

“‘We'?”

“Oh. Um,” he was trying to find words to explain the situation and Lance apparently had something to add, but chose rather irritating way to show it. “UGH. Lance. Can you stop showing your elbow in my ribs? _Please_.”

“Oh! So there's two of you? Who’s Lance?” He heard his uncle’s voice in his ear, the tone clearly intrigued.

“Ah… He… Um… He's a... friend?”

He looked at Lance looking for help, but his new friend appeared to be equally clueless.

“Um. Hello?” Lance's voice sounded shy in his ears.

“Hello, Lance,” Thace greeted him good naturedly. “So, tell me, boys. How many of you are there?”

“Just two. Two of us!” Keith was getting tired of this vicious circle of conversation and desperate to coming of some sort of agreement about their meeting. “Anyways, as I was saying before, we will just check in in a hostel…”

“A hostel? Family can’t stay in a hostel, you two should stay at my place!”

“But…”

_I don’t know you?_

Also, _you two_?

“No buts! I’d feel extremely guilty if I’d let my nephew just wander around.”

Keith looked at Lance for help. The other boy just nodded hesitantly, not sure what to make neither of Keith’s reaction, nor his uncle’s invitation.

“The number you're calling from, is it yours, Keith?”

“Oh, yeah. Why?”

“I’m texting you the address.”

 

In the face of Thace’s decisiveness, Keith could only comply. They made arrangements and the call ended, leaving the boy even more confused than he initially was. What was worse, the meeting got real, too real. It was pretty much terrifying.

“So… _we_ have a place to stay?” Lance raised an eyebrow, breaking the silence.

“Yeah. Seems like we do.”

“Because, you know, I can go find some other place?”

Keith took a deep breath. Communication was exhausting. But okay, one more thing to say.

“No. I mean. He, my uncle, is expecting us both already and… And? Thank you? I guess? I mean, your social skills helped me a lot?”

Lance laughed at that.

“Okay, okay. I get it. You appreciate my help and my social skills, and good, because you should, really, and you need more of them, and who am I to say ‘no' to a poor unfortunate soul in need, especially if I get a free place to stay out of it?” Lance beamed and was rewarded with a grunt from a grumpy Keith, who looked like he had just ate a full lemon second ago.

“That's not exactly what I meant, but whatever.”

“Aw, Mister Grumpy with a gaze that could kill a man is back! That's Keith we all know and love! No, but seriously now,” Lance regarded him with a careful look. “You feel good enough to drive? Want me to take the wheel?”

“No.”

“Just remember, we can switch at any time, I wouldn’t mind driving-”

“I’m good,” that shut Lance’s mouth successfully. But before he could recover, Keith glanced at him hesitantly and muttered, “but thank you. For, you know, stuff”.

Lance gave him a little smile.

“No problem, buddy.”

 

That seemed to settle some silent agreement between them and they continued their journey without a word, Lance's humming to the music and occasional singing aside.

And the mysterious kilometers that didn't really make sense to him were indicating that the distance between them and Amsterdam was getting smaller and smaller.

**Author's Note:**

> So we got our boys through their first European country (yay). As of now, we plan to drag them through at least 10 more, so brace yourselves. 
> 
> And as you may have noticed, neither of us is a native speaker of English, so we apologise for any cringy lines/mistakes. And if you think we can fix something, let us know <3!
> 
> Lots of love!
> 
>  
> 
> [nanamonella](http://nanamo.tumblr.com/)


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